


Private Dancer

by siriusblue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Based on a Tumblr Post, College, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sexual Content, Student Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15523908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusblue/pseuds/siriusblue
Summary: Tony Stark visits his favourite strip club not realising it's Male Review night. Stephen Strange finds exotic dancing a lucrative way to pay for med school. When Stephen steps on stage Tony realises he might not be as straight as he always thought he was.





	Private Dancer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merelypassingtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/gifts).



> This is for the incredible @merelypassingtime and her amazing Tumblr post.
> 
> I've never written in the MCU before nor am I American so let me know if there's anything hinky.

PRIVATE DANCER

  
  
  


Tony scratched out the final words of his coursework. The new semester started tomorrow and he had been putting this particular headache off until the last minute.

 

Deciding he needed to blow off a little steam he left his apartment and got into his car. Just a few miles along the road from the hallowed halls of MIT, a little off the highway, stood one of Tony’s favourite places.

 

Gentlemen Only was one of the better class of strip joints. The drinks weren't watered down too much and the girls were generally about his age and pretty.

 

He pulled into the parking lot under the flashing pink neon sign and got out. He missed the posters that screamed ‘Male Review Nite!’ as he entered the club, simply intent on having a good time. 

 

He bagged a table near the stage and smiled at his favourite waitress when she came to take his order. Louella was a class act: she made booty shorts and a tank top look stylish.

 

“Hi, stranger. What'll it be?”

 

“Beer, please.”

 

“Coming right up. Didn't think this would be your kind of thing, Tony.”

 

“What do you mean?” Tony laughed. “I'm one of your best customers.”

 

Louella smiled.

 

“It's a Male Review Nite, hon.”

 

Tony’s face fell.

 

“Oh. Okay, I'll stay for a beer though.”

 

Louella patted him on the shoulder and went to fill his order. Tony looked around the room, noticing for the first time the difference in clientele. Watching muscle-bound hunks ripping their pants off might be their thing but it sure as hell wasn't Tony's.

 

Louella arrived with his beer just as the house lights dimmed and a subtle beat began emanating from the speakers. Tony recognised the song and wondered who would pick Nine Inch Nails to strip to.

 

The spotlight fell on a young man wearing a dark suit and a purple shirt. He moved sinuously to the beat as his exquisite long fingers pulled open his jacket and he let it slip to the floor.

 

The stripper performed a balletic turn so all the customers could get a good look at his long legs and pert butt accentuated by his tight pants, his dark curls bouncing as he faced the front again, his hips moving rhythmically as he popped first one shirt button, slowly followed by another.

 

Tony sat, utterly mesmerised and half-hard as the man onstage undid the final button to reveal a smooth, gleaming chest.

 

_ He must oil himself up beforehand,  _ the tiny part of Tony’s brain that was still functioning at a higher level, thought.

 

Thinking what an exquisite job that would be, Tony discreetly ran his palm over his crotch and squeezed gently, considering the pretty obvious fact that he obviously wasn't as heterosexual as he had thought.

 

Onstage the stripper ripped off his pants with one fluid movement and Tony’s groan was lost in a chorus of similar noises. Wearing only a microscopic thong which accentuated rather than concealed, the stripper started to gyrate on the pole, the cheesy lighting accentuating every plane and angle on his exquisite frame. He finished with a backwards flip then bowed as dollar bills rained down on him like confetti.

 

As he ran offstage, Tony grabbed Louella.

 

“That guy. Does he do private dances?”

 

She looked at him quizzically, taking in his breathless, sweaty state.

 

“Sure, hon. You interested?”

 

“Sort it out for me, willya?” 

 

“You just wait right here,” she said.

 

When she returned, a firefighter was halfway through his routine, Tony had finished his beer and his erection had diminished somewhat.

 

“Come on, hon. Stephen’s waiting for you.”

 

Tony followed her to the part of the club that held the private rooms. She opened one door and shoved him none-too-gently inside.

 

It was all red velvet and overstuffed seats but Tony only had eyes for the other man in the room. Close up he was even more alluring, beautiful pale skin, high cheekbones and exquisite eyes which seemed to change colour just like the ocean. He was dressed in the club uniform of shorts and a strappy tee and Tony couldn't think of anything right now that would suit him more.

 

“Hello Stephen,” said Tony.

 

“Hello. You're here for a private dance?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“There are a few ground rules. You can't touch me and if you need to get off, you must wait till I leave otherwise I call security. Trust me, they have  _ no _ sense of humour. And it's two hundred bucks. Cash upfront.”

 

In a daze Tony emptied the contents of his wallet into Stephen’s hands.

 

“Hey, wait. That's far too much!” Stephen protested.

 

“You're worth every cent.” Tony insisted. “Play that song you were dancing to before though.”

 

“Okay, just a minute.” 

 

Stephen bent over the music player and Tony sat on one of the chairs, his legs spread wide.

 

“So, Nebraska. Why are you here?”

 

Stephen looked surprised but quickly rallied.

 

“I'm at Colombia. This job pays incredibly well. I seem to be good at it and it beats the hell out if bussing tables or mopping floors. What about you, Richie Rich?”

 

Tony laughed. He could come to really like this guy.

 

“MIT. Due back tomorrow. Thought I'd catch a show before I head back to the grind.”

 

“This kind of show?” Stephen asked as the music started and he undulated towards Tony.

 

He straddled Tony’s thighs, his rhythmic grace unimpeded by the awkward position.

 

Tony moaned aloud as he felt his cock thicken, the pressure of cotton and denim suddenly impossibly restrictive. Impulsively he raised his hands to grasp Stephen round the waist as Trent Reznor sang  _ ‘I want to feel you from the inside’ _

 

_ “ _ No touching,” said Stephen gently, pushing Tony's hands down by his sides. Tony moaned aloud at the exquisite torture, arching his hips, desperate for some kind of friction. His eyes flew open as he felt Stephen grind against him.

 

“Holy fuck,” he croaked. 

 

“You can't touch me,” smiled Stephen. “I could lose my job and there are cameras everywhere.”

 

Tony was too far gone to say anything until Stephen leaned in and whispered.

 

“I'm just as hot for you. I get my break in ten minutes. Meet me in the parking lot.”

 

All Tony could do was nod.

 

The song finished and Stephen left the room. Dazed, Tony managed to settle his bar bill and make it back to his car. When he saw a tall silhouette emerge from the staff entrance, he flashed his headlights and Stephen got in.

 

Tony drove to a disused warehouse not far away where the streetlamps didn't work and they had privacy in the dark.

 

As soon as he had turned off his engine Tony found himself with a lapful of Stephen.

 

“Now you can touch me as much as you like,” Stephen murmured before claiming Tony's mouth in a sloppy kiss. “And just so you know, I've never done this with another customer.”

 

Tony wasn't entirely sure what to do, but Stephen had no qualms, turning to straddle Tony while his talented hands went to work on the zipper of Tony’s jeans, easing out his erection and stroking it while his other hand did the same for himself.

 

The feel of Stephen's erection brushing his and the sight of his long fingers wrapped around them was almost too much for Tony but by recalling every element in the periodic table by atomic weight then alphabetically, he managed to hold off until Stephen's movements became erratic and Tony knew he was close. Only then did Tony let his orgasm surge through him, spilling all over Stephen's talented hand, swiftly followed by a guttural cry from Stephen as he followed suit.

 

Tony wiped them both off with his shirt then kissed Stephen, allowing his tongue to explore and to taste.

 

“You were very sweet, Richie.” Stephen said as the kiss broke.

 

“Tony. My name is Tony.”

 

“Tony,” echoed Stephen and kissed him again.


End file.
